Consort of a Thousand Faces

Sensing that it was about time, Hua Zirong announced that the banquet had concluded. The officials nodded and slowly began to filter out of the hall until only Prime Minister Wen was left.

Just as Pei Qianhao, Su Xi-er, and Du Ling were about to depart, Hua Zirong stopped them. “Please hold on. Why don’t you three also sit down and have a listen?”

The trio exchanged knowing glances before settling into their seats.

Despite Prime Minister Wen’s indifferent facade, his gaze hid an icy coldness in it. I have already prepared for every possibility; I’m not scared of what I am about to face.

“Prime Minister Wen, now that the other officials are no longer here, this Monarch would like to hear your reason for what you said during the banquet.” Hua Zirong asked.

Prime Minister Wen conducted himself with composure. “This old subject knows that my sins are deep, so I would like to atone through this method.”

“Prime Minister Wen, did you intend to defy this Monarch’s edict with such actions?” Hua Zirong’s expression was solemn.

Prime Minister Wen violently coughed a few times. “This old subject is afraid that I don’t have long to live after catching this cold illness. Since I may not be able to survive the journey to Meng County, I planned to repay the nation with this instead.” A sinister look flashed past his eyes.

Hua Zirong sneered. “Is that so? Why don’t you let the imperial physicians treat you then?” He turned to the servants. “Someone, summon the Chief of the Imperial Physician Institute, Imperial Physician Zhang.” 

Both Hua Zirong and Prime Minister Wen managed to maintain relatively placid expressions, while Su Xi-er couldn’t help but smirk at the events unfolding before her.

Ridicule flickered in Du Ling’s eyes. It looks like Hua Zirong already has a conclusion in his mind.

Not long after, Imperial Physician Zhang came with a eunuch. With but a glance, the former quickly grasped the situation.

“This humble subject pays my respects to Your Majesty. Long live the Monarch for ten thousand years.”

“You may rise. Prime Minister Wen is afflicted with a cold illness. Treat him properly.” Hua Zirong commanded coldly.

Imperial Physician Zhang came forward, his expression deferential. “Prime Minister, please excuse this old man.”

Imperial Physician Zhang opened Prime Minister Wen’s sleeve and placed his hand on the latter’s wrist to feel for his pulse. As he did so, however, Imperial Physician Zhang’s brows knitted together, and a pensive look emerged on his face.

“You are free to speak.” Hua Zirong told Imperial Physician Zhang.

Prime Minister Wen smirked inwardly. Think you can expose me? Your medical skills aren’t good enough.

Su Xi-er and Du Ling couldn’t help but sneer, while the temperature in Pei Qianhao’s eyes dropped even further as they watched the farce.

Imperial Physician Zhang’s eyes were a little shifty. “Your Majesty, Prime minister Wen is indeed afflicted with a cold illness, and he does not have much time left.”

Prime Minister Wen remained indifferent. “Your Majesty, this old subject’s words can be trusted now, right?”

Coldness flashed past Hua Zirong’s eyes. “In that case, Prime Minister Wen, you may return and recuperate. As for the matter of selling off the Prime Minister Residence, we’ll talk about it after you die.” His words were brutal, even carrying a hint of a curse.

Prime Minister Wen was unfazed. “This humble subject obeys the imperial decree.”

Upon further thought, Imperial Physician Zhang lowered his head in fear. In this palace, the more you know, the faster you die.